Letant's dream
by Manufactured-triumph
Summary: One Romulan's dream is another Romulan nightmare. Letant' gets fan mail after an interview about the Dominion war, and poor Vreenak get's pulled into the madness.


**A/N: This is a quick one off inspired be a PM, probably no more than a couple chapters It's not meant to be serious or follow any story I have or have had...just a little something to make someone grin. I don't own Trek…Oh, and we are going to pretend Vreenak didn't die, not I'm not going to explain it, I just wanted to have him interact with Letant.**

Letant had been de-briefed on Deep Space nine after they returned from their successful invasion. He was more than pleased it worked, he had gambled his reputation on it and this time it won. He had already received a commendation from the rest of the senate. This appeared to be going in his favor.

Upon leaving the briefing room, the young Jake Sisco approached him with a charming smile, "Senator Letant, do you mind giving me an interview?"

Letant looked at him curiously, "For what?"

"I've covered the whole of the Dominion war for the Federation News Feed. I'd love to do an article on the Romulan hero that helped secure victory over the dominion."

Letant instantly liked the sound of that. "Yes, but I wish it to be on video, so no one can take license with what I say."

"That's fine, Senator! I can have it set up in no time. Where do you want to record?"

"My ship, in two hours." Letant said casually, "This...goes out to the ENTIRE Federation?"

"Yes, Sir, I have a big following all over the Federation."

He nodded, and sauntered off toward the docking ring. He wanted to tart himself up a bit, if he was going to be put on display before the entire Federation, he was going to look the part of a Romulan Senator.

888

It had been three weeks since the end of the war, and the Romulan senate and paraded Letant around like a prized war horse, he had enjoyed the adulation of his people. Upon seeing his estate though, he found himself grateful to be home. He loved the life he had, being a member of the aristocracy had it's benefits. He'd been wined and dined by the cream of Romulan society. It was wonderful, but seeing the marble pillars of his home, he was pleased he'd be staying for a month before returning to active service. He needed a rest, or at the very least, his liver needed some time to dry out from all the ale he'd consumed.

As the air car came to a stop he saw a strange sight at his door. There were two large piles of small packages, and his aid was standing stiffly next to them. Letant got out with a frown, "What's the meaning of all this?" he asked, his fluid voice cracking with annoyance.

"Sir, it's...these are…"

"Spit it out man!" Letant said staring him down.

""These are some of what has arrived in your absence." the assistant said nervously, "The rest is in your study, Sir." he cleared his throat, "Along with, a padd filled with correspondence."

"Packages and correspondences from who?" Letant asked picking up a box, "Mrs. Kreeton's Lakewood Elementary." He read aloud and looked at his assistant, "What are these?"

"I believe the term is...fan mail. These are gifts from all over the Federation, and all of them have some term of admiration, homemade gift, or a collective of letters and art in gratitude for helping save the quadrant from the Dominion." He cleared his throat and handed him a padd, "These contain letters from human females, which, I have not read them all, but many of them contain...sexual content, and some of the boxes on the interior of the house are from females seeking you as a mate, or um, offering sexual release to you should you happen to be in their vicinity, there are a collection of female underwear in some of the boxes. There are pictures and vids as well."

Letants' eyebrows rose to his angled bangs. "You don't say?"

"Yes, Lord, there are many of such things. Including a...few male offers, one states that he has, um, _two_ fully functioning loks which he sends pictures of, dressed in some fuzzy loincloth shaped like a vulcan sehlat...the fangs are umm,"

Letant waved him off and started to laugh, "Oh this is going to give me hours of entertainment. Don't spoil it for me. What would possess humans to do this?" he said walking passed the piles beside his front door, the aid followed motioning for the two servants waiting to begin to pick up the piles and bring them inside.

"Gratitude seems to be the common theme, My Lord," his assistant said following him into the study, "They are sending thanks to you for being a hero."

That amused Letant greatly, "They see me as a hero?"

"As I have said before, Humans have horrible taste, and their judgement is that of an intoxicated soldier on leave." Vreenak said entering Letant's chamber behind him and his assistant.

"Vreenak," Letant purred, "What brings you into my private home without an invitation?"

Vreenak rolled his eyes, "You did invite me, last week. You were intoxicated at the time, so I understand why you might not remember. We were going to discuss the trade treaty with Miranda III."

Letant sighed, "We can do that I suppose, but only if you help me go through all my gifts first."

Vreenak's jaws tensed, "I have no time to play foolish games, Letant."

Letant didn't care about the treaty, either way it went would be beneficial to Romulus so he decided to put it another way, "Let me rephrase, Vreenak, sit with me and go through these things and I'll support whatever you believe is proper in the treaty. Take it seriously, and I'll rally all my allies to support it too."

Vreenak stared at him for a few moments, "Have your assistant get me your finest bottle of Kali-fal, and it's a deal."

Letant nodded to his assistant, "As you wish, now, where do we begin?"

Vreenak sat down, "What are you looking for in the first place. Do you wish to read all of these thanks, or do you think someone sent you Federations secrets?"

"I don't know what I'm looking for, Vreenak, I simply want to indulge in some of these. You have to admit, some of it is charming!" he sat down in his chair, crossing his legs.

Vreenak made something like a 'harumph' sound, "Humans are an inferior race, if you wish to be admired by something inferior, then get a pet. They are much more pleasant and when you tired of them you can give them away."

"Vreenak, you are heartless." Letant said with a chuckle, he opened up one of the small boxes marked that it came from a school and held up the class picture, "Look at these innocent faces, reaching out across the stars to what I am sure they perceive is an evil romulan who for a moment was their hero."

"You are buying into your own propaganda, Letant. I saw that interview, you were a complete faaaake."

Letant rolled his eyes, "I was not, as you say, fake. I was diplomatic, nothing I said was a lie."

"You were and are an aristocratic twat, Letant, in any language and in any race." Vreenak took the glass from the assistant, smelling it deeply, "but you do have some of the best kali-fal and I want your votes for my trade agreement, so we are here at an impasse. Show me your new toys."

Letant chuckled at his crusty old compatriot, few men could talk to him like Vreenak just spoke and live, but from Vreenak it was a welcomed egocentricity. "Come, let us explore my vast treasure!"

888

Vreenak had casually gone through a few boxes and letters, but he was mainly drinking and watching Letant tear through things like a small child tore through gifts on his birthday. He had, in fact, started playing a drinking game. Everytime Letant boasted about children admiring him, that was a sip. Everytime he got a pair of female panties, that was a sip. Male underwear, two sips. A normally tawdry picture, one with simple nudity, a sip. Exotic tawdry pictures, depending on the content, a half a glass.

Three hours into it, and Vreenak couldn't feel his nose anymore, and he wasn't sure if he still had toes at all. Still, he managed to keep up with the sipping and looked, for all outward purposes, fairly stoic.

"Oh, Vreenak," Letant said breathlessly, not noticing the man he was talking to was staring blankly at nothing, numb from drink, "This is the one, this is it, this is why searched through everything."

"Is it a woman?" Vreenak asked in an abrupt slur.

"Not just A woman, Vreenak, THE woman." Letant stood holding a picture gingerly in his hands, "This is the woman I've been waiting for my entire life."

Vreenak lost count at this point and just downed the glass of ale in his hand. Almost immediately he knew that was a mistake, but he couldn't puzzle out what to do.

"Look!" Letant held a picture up of a black haired woman standing next to a red haired woman, "The red haired lady," he pointed, "The other one in the picture sent this to me,"

Vreenack felt himself belech, but as it turned out, the belch was the last glass of Kali-fal coming up.

Letant backed away and frowned, "Heavens, man! Get ahold of yourself!" but then he smiled, "Or not…" he walked over and with two fingers pushed Vreenak over in the chair. "Good, good," he said with a jackal's smile. He rang for his assistant, "Load him up in the shuttle, we are taking my ship…"

"Where are we going, Lord?"

"Earth….a place called, Bos-tone."

"Yes, Lord." he said with a nod.

"And clean him up, make sure to pack extra oxi-pills for his hangover." Letant ordered, "Now, I must go pack!"


End file.
